


Girls Like Honey

by escritoireazul



Category: Sweet Valley High - Francine Pascal, Sweet Valley Twins - Francine Pascal
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Haunted Houses, ToT: Battle of the Bands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:42:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escritoireazul/pseuds/escritoireazul
Summary: The Fowler mansion is haunted, Lila says.Jessica Wakefield believes in ghosts.
Relationships: Lila Fowler/Jessica Wakefield
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	Girls Like Honey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovelyflowersinherhair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyflowersinherhair/gifts).



_I like my girls just like I like my honey; sweet  
A little selfish  
I like my women like I like my money; green  
A little jealous_  
"Honey" Kehlani

Jessica Wakefield believes in ghosts.

Once, Jessica lied (as she often did), and pretended to be her sister (as she sometimes did), and was visited by three Christmas ghosts (which had never happened before). Once, Jessica sounded the bells and brought peace to star-crossed lovers, or at least their ghosts (one day, Elizabeth will write this story, and it will be adapted into a movie, and Jessica will star; it will certainly be romantic).

Once, Elizabeth was nearly killed by a vengeful, lonely child in a bright, frightening carnival.

Jessica Wakefield absolutely believes in ghosts.

*

“My house is haunted,” Lila Fowler says. She’s sitting at Jessica’s vanity but using her own brush on her dark hair. Her lips are painted in bright red lipstick, her teeth very white when her reflection smirks. Jessica can see herself in the mirror, too, long blonde hair, that ridiculous dimple, those shining blue eyes.

“Your house isn’t haunted.” There _are_ haunted houses in Sweet Valley, but the Fowler mansion isn’t one of them.

For that matter, none of them have discovered a haunted house since junior high. It’s likely there aren’t any unexplored ones left.

Lila sniffs. “Yes it is. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She sets her brush to the side and frowns severely. “ _I_ know haunted places. I’ve seen them, in Europe. France especially.”

Jessica laughs and feels warm and annoyed all at the same time. That is so like Lila, confident and competitive and utterly certain that she is right. “Oh, in Europe, of course.” She’s teasing, but she can hear the edge in her own voice.

Something passes across Lila’s expression, but it’s gone before Jessica quite catches it. Lila picks up her brush again, returns to her hair. It gleams in the sunlight pouring through the window. It is not always sunny in Sweet Valley, sometimes storms rage, but it is often enough.

Jessica watches the slow movement of the brush through Lila’s hair, the soft skin of her arm.

“Show me your ghosts,” she says.

Lila’s slow smirk is almost enough to make Jessica take it back. Almost.

*  


The Fowler mansion has a staff, of course. Nothing but the best for Lila, and for Mr Fowler, the best always means spending money. Lots of money. They're competent, a calm and quiet presence seen mostly as a flicker in the corner of her eye, gone before she can really catch them at anything, but they _are_ a presence, usually, and tonight, they're not. Lila dismisses the driver once they’ve arrived, but there's no sign of the cook or the maid even though food waits for them and the house is as clean and cold and perfect as ever. They eat quickly. Lila takes wine from the small collection in the dining room. The bulk of the collection is down in the wine cellar.

“Wouldn’t it make sense to be there?” Jessica asks when she thinks about it. It seems a fitting place for a haunting.

Lila sniffs, disdainful. “Why? Do you think grapes have ghosts?”

Jessica huffs. Thinks about leaving. She knew she should have driven herself. She can call Elizabeth, if she needs an escape. Or anyone else, really. They would all come for her, even if what she needs to escape is Lila. They are both popular. There is a line their classmates walk. Their friends. Do not set against one or the other.

Elizabeth would know the right ghost story to reference. Something literary and likely a little boring.

They take their bottles and wine glasses upstairs to the very top floor. It is dark there, and quiet, and cool. The sun has set and night presses against the windows. Lila leads her into a room she’s never been inside before. It is clean, no dust stirring as they move through it, but it has the feel of an abandoned space.

The Wakefield home is big enough, the family never really wanting for anything, but it is not like this, space enough to go empty, space enough to be silent and lonely.

There is a window seat. Lila takes her there and they sit, half turned in toward each other. Jessica doesn’t have to look far to see the lights of Sweet Valley spread beyond the dark lawn. Doesn’t have to look far to see the shadows in the room.

Lila pours them wine. It’s a pinot noir, though Jessica doesn’t recognize the label on the bottle, not that she can see it clearly. She is not a wine snob like Lila (a connoisseur, Lila says, with that familiar twist to her expression that sometimes makes Jessica want to slap her and sometimes makes Jessica want to laugh and sometimes makes Jessica want to kiss her, as strange as that is), and she doesn’t pretend, not here, not tonight, not waiting for a ghost. It tastes fine, blackberries and citrus and raspberries hidden in it, and that is enough.

They sit together. They drink together. They wait for a ghost, or Jessica does, at least a little. Lila’s expression is steady, the hint of a smirk playing around her lips. This could be a game still, or a prank, or just another step in their weird, twisty friendship. Jessica has seen a ghost (has seen _ghosts_ ). Lila must _have_ ghosts, then. Jessica has not had that, not a haunting in her own home.

They sit in the darkness, and they drink, and Jessica waits.

*

It is late, and Jessica is drunk. Lila is, too. Some time ago, Lila went for more wine. Jessica stayed at the window, rested her forehead against the cold glass, let it cool her flushed skin. Now she hears Lila’s step outside the door, and she turns to look, smiling already. More than she would sober.

There’s no Lila. There is only the flicker of movement.

Jessica stands, suddenly, and moves across the room before she thinks better of it. She can hear the steps, still, or at least the faint creak that comes from them, the sound of wooden floors moving, just a little.

The room is dark, the hallway darker still. The room is cold, the hallway colder still.

She stumbles over nothing. Touches her hand to the wall to catch herself. She hadn’t noticed before, but there is wallpaper here, textured. Her fingers drag along it, catching on the raised designs. They are not rough, they are slick, and they feel strange.

A movement ahead of her. An even darker darkness, like shadows closing on each other.

Her breath is very loud. So is the beat of her heart. When she swallows, it is like a scream.

Goosebumps prickle along her skin. She is shaking before she knows it, cold through and through. 

“Who’s there?” she tries, but the words stick. “Wait,” she tries, but it fades on her lips. “Who are you?” she tries, but the sound crashes the moment it leaves her throat.

“Jessica?”

One word, but it is a discordant clash behind her. A shout. A crack of lightning through the muted pressure of a storm.

She stops. Ahead of her, the shadows move. She has been walking for too long. The house is not _that_ large. The hallway not _that_ long.

A hand, warm, catches her arm. Turns her when she cannot turn herself. Lila looks at her, smirk still in place, but her eyes are wide. They are only a few steps from the doorway. The hallway is dark, but not so dark that she can’t see. The air is cool, but not so cold she burns with it.

Jessica looks back. The hallway is short again, and empty. The shadows are just shadows. There is no sound of footsteps, no whisper of movement.

“Lightweight.” Lila’s hand slides down her arm until she can take Jessica’s hand. Leads her back into the room, to the window seat. They sit again, together. Lila refills their glasses. Presses Jessica’s into her hand, holding it steady until Jessica’s fingers grip it. “Don’t leave me to drink alone.”

Jessica can barely taste the wine on the first sip, but then it is warm and rich in her mouth, and she swallows it quickly. Too quickly. Lila laughs at her as she drains the glass, but fills it yet again. 

They sip their wine. Sit and look at each other. Lila watches Jessica close. Touches her lightly, her hand, her leg. Wears her smirk, still, but something else too.

“I told you my house is haunted,” Lila says, and laughs.

Jessica’s skin feels too tight, the chill lingers, but the shadows are gone, and Lila brings light with her. Warmth. Wine.

She leans forward. Kisses Lila, sudden, quick. Her lips are warm and sweet with wine. Lila kisses back. Her fingers ghost along Jessica’s cheek.

“I don’t know,” Jessica says when she sits back. There’s a flush to Lila’s cheeks that has nothing to do with the wine. “I might have to stay awhile. Keep looking.”

Lila laughs again, for no reason, and Jessica laughs too.


End file.
